


A tale of Nerds

by Buria24



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 23:27:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10685085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buria24/pseuds/Buria24
Summary: The first thing you think when you picture a Nerd in your mind is a skinny kid with glasses and a lot of pimples.I’m very sorry to tell you that this is not the truth.Of course there are a lot of skinny kids with glasses and a lot of pimples who are Nerds, but we’re not all like that.





	A tale of Nerds

**Prologue:** _**How a Nerd works** _

The first thing you think when you picture a Nerd in your mind is a skinny kid with glasses and a lot of pimples.  
I’m very sorry to tell you that this is not the truth.  
Of course there are a lot of skinny kids with glasses and a lot of pimples who are Nerds, but we’re not all like that.  
Everyone you know could be a serial Nerd, but you can identify them with several common traits:  
Nerds don’t have much friends, at least not in real life. If you do a little research, you will find out that its online friends, who are often part of its RPG guild, are quite an amount. But, of course, you can’t see them. The one you will see aren’t more than five at times, because the common nerd is often uncomfortable in crowded places.  
Unless it’s not a Comic Con, but this is another story.  
The lock screen of a Nerd’s phone is always its favorite character, or a cosplay, or it in a cosplay, or its soul mate in a cosplay (if it’s a real person or a character doesn’t matter, it’s still its soul mate).    
You can never find it on social websites before an episode of its favorite TV series, the risk of spoilers is too high.  
There are other revealing signs such as fandom gadgets and nerd slang, like the jokes we can only understand.  
_Stupid muggles._  
But, nevertheless, the life of a Nerd is quite difficult: its species is endangered, and the fact it isn’t considered as a social animal doesn’t help.  
The common Nerd spends most of its time in their personal (bat)cave.  Aka its room. So there must be an important event for it to walk away from the safe and comfortable computer station.  
Like Comic Con.  
A Nerd never moves without its pack, composed by the few people it can trust so much it can unleash its crazy self, which is the one screaming and crying in front of anything regarding its fandom.  
Even when it’s surrounded by other samples of its species it’s hard for it to talk to them, because you can never know if the person in front of you is crazy as you are, considering the common Nerd is also very shy.  
Despite these common traits, there are different species of Nerds:  Bookworms, who dream about having a library like the one in Beauty and the Beast; Gamers, divided into PC and Console Gamers (never let them have a conversation about which platform is the best, it might never end); TV Series addicted, who never actually watch television, but Netflix and other streaming sites are their best friends; Otaku, the ones who are _always_ talking about how much Japan is amazing;  Old Fashioned, who complain all the time about how their favorite superhero movie it’s different from the comic.  
**Useful tip:** if you know which species of Nerd you are confronting, you will know what to give them as a gift for the next fifty years. Although you have to be careful: the Nerd is a very dangerous species, if you insult anything they like, you’re as well as dead.  
**N.B.** We used the pronoun _it_ on purpose because we can be like real animals if you spoil us something, or if you ruin one of our books. _Never, never_, _ruin someone else’s book._  
So, now that you know how a Nerd works you can understand the weird story I’m about to tell you.  
If you want a common romance, made of kisses and hearts, read something else.  
This story is about imagination, books, comics, videogames, trusting issues, bullying, hiding, TV series and _a lot of quotes._  
Yes, **spoiler alert,** even a little bit of kisses and hearts.  
But don’t get used to that.  

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**Chapter one:** The terrifying act of meeting someone new 

When Cassandra woke up that morning just a look at the window told her that her day was meant to go wrong.  
It was a sunny, shining, hot day.  
She hated it.  
Every time she went outside and the sun was shining her pale skin turned red and she began to sweat under the black clothes. Many times her best friend asked her if she could wear anything that wasn’t black: she never answered that.  
Cassandra lived in a very small apartment just next to the her high school, barely big enough for her and her hideous roommate. The apartment was composed by two little bedrooms, one little kitchen and one little bathroom. Every room was painted in a depressing shade of grey that actually looked like dirt.  
Despite the size, she tried to make the little room more like her own: the walls were completely covered with drawings, TV series posters and photos; the larger wall, the one in front of the bed, was painted with an enormous planisphere, where she could point out every place she wanted to visit, and every town quoted in her books. Therefore, the books were all around the place. There was no place for a library, so you could find them literally everywhere: used as bedside table, inside the closet piled next to her jeans and inside the drawer with her bras.  
She went straight to the little kitchen to grab some coffee: no coffee, no functioning brain.  
Still in her pajamas and carrying a grey cloud of despair and bad mood over her head, she saw her roommate smiling at her, like it was the best day ever.  
She hated her too.  
«Why do you have to be so miserable when it is so beautiful outside?»  
«Why should I be happy?» she grunted. «Sun means hot that means me sweating that means me turning in a horrible shade of purple.» Cassandra grabbed a coffeepot and put it on the stove. Learning how to correctly do an italian espresso was hard, but totally worth the effort: nothing was strong and dark like it.  
«Plus, it means that I have to see horrible happy faces all day.»  
«I never understood why you’re so grumpy.» Fortunately for Cassandra, her roommate left the kitchen after her brilliant line.  
When everyone asked why she was always angry, she felt the urge of punch the poor victim right in the center of the face. Everyone who asked such a stupid question, never knew what meant to be an outcast, and the ones who knew, never dared to ask.  
Finding a friend was always a harsh matter for Cassandra. She never really talked to anyone unless she was forced to, and trusting was simply an utopia. Humans, almost as wolves, need a pack. There’s a reason if there’s society. Mankind have always felt the urge to make a group so they can be stronger and defend themselves.  
So, like the lone wolf is weak and targeted by other wolves, the outcasts like her don’t have a simple life.  
In kindergarten she always had to play alone. She desperately wanted someone to play with, but she never had the courage to talk to any of the other children. She learnt to read at a very young age so the fictional characters became her best friends. They were outcasts too, they could understand how she felt. Books were her safe place when things got too bad, when later, in school, the other kids started calling her “strange”. Growing up, those kids became teenagers and learnt words such as freak, weirdo and other ways to let her know she was not part of the pack.  
Meanwhile, with her nose behind a book, Cassandra used to watched them. And she learnt: in high school she finally managed the fine art of acting. Every day she acted like a normal person would do: no books carried everywhere with her, no movie quotes when she talked, no lock screens of her favorite cosplays.  
Nothing even close to the real Cassandra.  
Instead she began to talk of boys she wasn’t interested in, fashion and makeup like the other girls. All the things that she liked were well hidden.  
But Cassandra wasn’t  a lone wolf anymore, she was another species: she was a shape shifting trickster fox.  
She tried to look like the others, but an animal knows when the one next to it doesn’t fit in. So even when she tried to be like them, she remained an outcast.  
Her good grades, her hand always up during lessons got her envy looks and mean comments. They made her feel like being smart was something she had to be ashamed of. So, even if her grades remained the same, she stopped raising her hand and she never spoke unless she was asked to.  
She of course had friends during her lifetime, even boyfriends and girlfriends, but none of them actually knew her, in fact: they never passed the surface, they never saw anything but what Cassandra wanted them to see.  
They never knew she didn’t stopped acting.  
With time Cassandra made peace with herself, she accepted she was not meant to be part of something and she get used to be alone. Every time she needed someone to rely on she had her favorite characters, the only one who couldn’t let her down.  
Trying to shake off the anger caused by the stupidity of her roommate, Cassandra drank her coffee and headed to the bathroom. While she was brushing her teeth, her reflection stared at her, as it was judging her. Her skin was pale like she was sick, the dark circles under her eyes were even bigger than the day before making them look wider and tired, her hair looked like as if a pigeon decided to make its nest on her head, and her lips were chapped due to her bad habit of chewing them constantly.  
Cassandra went out of the bathroom to avoid the look of her own reflection. She wore a black tank top, jeans and boots. She looked another time out of the window cursing the weather and her myopia, that wouldn’t have allowed her to wear sunglasses. She combed her hair and made a quick braid so they wouldn’t bother her. She grabbed her backpack and headed down the stairs where someone was waiting for her.  
Daphne was in front of the dormitory door with the same grumpy face her friend had when she woke up and discovered it was sunny outside: they were best friends for a reason.  
Cassandra made a little smile. «Don’t be so sad, I’m here.» The girl’s tone was full of irony, as her best friend turned around she reached her and showed her a big smile.  
«How do you smile that much so early in the morning?» She asked, obviously upset about waking up for school like every day.  
«Aren’t you happy is a beautiful sunny day?» Cassandra rose her eyebrow, a smirk at the edge of her lips.  
«You hate it as much as I do.» The disgusted expression on Daphne’s face spoke by itself.  
«If I wasn’t completely uncomfortable with physical contact, I’d definitely hug you.»  
«Aww, you’re such a sweetie.» The girl smiled at her and Cassandra felt better.  Daphne was one of the few people she trusted enough to let show her the real herself. They were similar in many aspects: she was an outcast too, but she didn’t have all the troubles Cassandra had growing up. They liked the same things and Daphne had that little bit of sprint that Cassandra didn’t have. She was a tiny girl with very long dark blonde hair and sweet hazel eyes, the reason why no one would never imagine the bad temper she had. Cassandra like to think of her like a little devil in the body of a fairy. «But as much I don’t want to: we have to go.»  
~  
Cassandra heard a lot of people saying they loved their senior year and that they would return immediately to that time of their lives. She had no clue how that could be possible. Senior year was a concentrate of anxiety and pressure, all the students were always in a hurry: they had to finish the program and at the same time they had to try to remember as much as possible for the tests. Plus, for the unfortunate souls who wished to go to college, they had to study for the college tests too. Of course, she was one of those unfortunate souls.  
Senior year was a terrible torture where the one who tortures you make you think you have a chance of escaping, but in reality you’re just heading towards a different type of torture.  
Her high school, which was located in an ancient castle, who surely was beautiful, but it wasn’t very comfortable. In fact every time they had to go to another class they had to do at least two steps of stairs. The only positive thing –although just Cassandra considered it positive - was that the thick wall kept away the hot air, so everyone in the school was always freezing.    
That day she sat in her chair, right next to Daphne, waiting for another day of torture in the endless circle of pain called life.  
«Why is she late? She’s never late.» The suspicious tone of her friend made her worry. Mrs. Evans, her favorite teacher in the whole school, was the type of teacher who awaits for the bell to ring just outside the door.  
She would never waste a single minute of a lesson, not since they were seniors. The first day of school, she said that they were already late with the program, something impossible for the first day of school.  
When both started to worrying about the possibility their favorite teacher won’t show that day, she walked in with an enormous smile on her face. Both of the girls stared at each other, silently asking “ _what the hell is going on?”_  
«Dear students, I’d like to introduce you your new classmate: Elijah Lancaster.»  
The guy who walked in was too good to be true: he had platinum blonde hair, so fair they could compete with his white-as-marble skin, and penetrating dark grey eyes. He wore a pair of tight jeans, with an even tighter white t-shirt that marked the muscles beneath it.  
«This is very embarrassing. Good morning anyway.» _Of course he had an English accent. Someone named Elijah Lancaster could only come from England._  
The whole class, except for Cassandra and Daphne, sighed as they saw him. Cassandra hated him immediately.  
«Even if I’ve seen the grades from your previous school  and I’m sure you don’t need a tutor, our school policy impose us to provide you one: you will be assisted by Mrs. Way.» The professor’s voice sounded like a knife in her ear.  
«What? Me?» The girl’s voice was much louder than she expected. Although, after the teacher glared at her, she continued her speech.  
«Mrs. Way is our best student and all the classes you will attend are the same for the both of you so she can help you find them and with fitting in.» Mrs. Evans gave him her best smile. «You can sit now.»  
They guy, Elijah, gave her an inquisitorial gaze before sitting next to her.  
When Mrs. Evans started explaining the first World War, Cassandra couldn’t think of anything but her betrayal: if physical contact made her uncomfortable, knowing another human being was unbearable. Getting to know someone implied conversation, question about what you both like or what you don’t and endless chatting about things she wasn’t interested in. Plus, he looked like one of the cool people who used to judge her from the top of the food chain, and she was tired of guys like him.  
As soon as the bell rang Cassandra went straight to Mrs. Evans. «How could You do that? You know I have barely time for studying, and now I have to baby-sit someone even taller than me.» She sounded really desperate, trying to hit that friendly bond they made through years.  
«Extra credit, dear. They are always useful. Besides, this could be a great opportunity for you to improve, he was the best student of his high school.» Her teacher was sincere and she knew how much she cared about her. «Thank you, professor.» Even if she wasn’t happy she was really grateful to her professor for caring about her when no one did.  
«You’re welcome dear.»  
When she turned around all she saw was white. For a moment she thought she became blind, but after a second she realized she was looking at Elijah’s chest.  
«So, where’s ours next class?»  
If this morning she knew that her day was meant to go wrong, now she was certain of that.  
«C’mon Cassie, you could smile sometimes.» His voice was simply irritating.  
«Do not call me Cassie ever again. Only my friends can call me Cassie, and you’re definitely not my friend.» The girl tried to not growl at him, but she wasn’t doing a great job.  
«And how do I have to call you, _little ball of joy?_ »  
This time she actually growled. «If you have to, you call me Cassandra.»  
«As you wish, _honey bun._ »  
«Did everyone ever told you you’re disgusting?»  
«Nope. Girls usually say I’m awesome.»  
The thought of punching him crossed her mind, but she could never do it in the middle of an art class.  
«AND SINCE YOU TWO SEEMS GETTING ALONG,» the voice of their art teacher reached them loud and clear «you two will be paired for the next assignment.»  
«What?» after they said it simultaneously, she glared at him.  
«Since you’re his tutor, Mrs. Way, assisting him is you duty.» The teacher was smirking, not so secretly proud of what he did: pairing students who hated each other seemed to be his accomplishment in life. «You will have to paint a portrait of your partner. Of course before you make an idea of how the painting will be you have to know him, so you can actually paint his soul.» The teacher made a pause of effect. «So before you paint the portrait you have to know each other. So you will meet every Saturday morning for this semester. The paint will count as 25% of your grade.»  
Cassandra wanted to pull all of her hair away for the frustration she felt. Not only she had to bring that jackass around, like he was a platinum blonde wag-tailing dog, but now she had to meet him every week after school to listen of how much wonderful his life was and how he wanted to spend of all his parents’ money. As if that wan’t bad enough he had to know something about her too, and that was one of the thing she hated most.  
Art was one of her favorite subjects, and she was a natural. She started painting when she was a kid and it was a good way to calm her down: every time she was too angry with the world, the calm and the concentration required by a particularly difficult painting was all she needed to let her anger slip away.  
An unexpected touch made her wince.  
«What are you doing with my phone?» She asked to the boy, who seemed absolutely comfortable for someone who just stole her phone directly from her pocket.  
 «I’m saving my number in your contact list of course. We will see at my place tomorrow, 10 am. Don’t be late. I’ll text you my address.» After he put the phone back in the pocket he left the class, leaving her alone and shocked.  
Everyone who knew her knew that she didn’t liked to be touched, she made herself very clear about that. Since the death of her parents she didn’t let anyone touch her. Her friends dealt with her weird way of acting, even the didn’t knew the actual reason. They knew Cassandra had been through a lot of crap, and they were there for her.  
Even if all of them eventually left her by herself, except for Daphne.  
When she got to her apartment, her roommate was already there.  
«Hey Cassie.» The girl’s tone was mysteriously sugary.  
«What’s the problem with you people and nicknames today?» hers, therefore, was not.  
«I hear you have been pared with Elijah. Isn’t he hot?»  
A grunt and an eye roll from Cassandra explained very clearly what she thought about that, but her roommate continued anyway. «I was wandering if you could talk to him about me, I know you’re not interested in guy like him. Of course if you’re interested I’ll never take him away from you. Because we’re friends, aren’t we?»  
When she got her admission to the high school Cassandra fought  hard to live alone, but the school’s policy forbid to a minor to live alone so, instead of a calm and silent apartment on her own, she got a tiny apartment with the most irritating girl of the school, the head cheerleader: dyed-blonde hair, IQ of a peanut and the voice of a suffering rat.  
«Screw you, Aileen.»  
The only thing that made her through school that day was the thought of the weekend: no school, no people she hated, just her and her best friend, preparing for the Comic Con on Sunday. They had a plan.  
Everything in her life was meticulously planned, she couldn’t afford even the tiniest mistake.  
But her plans were about to be wrecked by a blowhard with an idiotic medieval surname.

 


End file.
